


The Scandal of Secrets

by hisfoolishgirl



Series: APTX WATSON [7]
Category: Magic Kaito, Sherlock (TV), 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Also -, Also I'm trash at notes apparently so I don't know if I've kept ages consistant, And Irene has one throw away instant flirt line that she tosses at Kaito - who is now in college, Are a great cure for that problem, Don't really know how to tag this one any more, F/M, Gen, However I still think it can be enjoyed if you're only a fan of one fandom or the other, Identity Reveal, In England, Kid is retired but not his adrenaline addiction, Kinda, Lets go with the most dramatic one that matters for our boi Shinichi, M/M, Or at least Vermouth is mentioned, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots, Spy!Kaito Kuroba, Sucks to be Shinichi - Sucks to be how Shinichi treats Ran, This really can not be read on its own apart from the London Game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:10:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17411723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisfoolishgirl/pseuds/hisfoolishgirl
Summary: A chair slid, and the voice that followed was not a child’s, “After throwing me under the bus and questioning me? You of all people know exactly what corner I’ve put myself in to protect her - then you offer to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart - and you think -”“Shinichi.”Conan stopped. Shinichi stopped. There was silence.“Hattori already told you to tell her already, didn’t he?”There was silence. Ran knew it was a nod. She knew Hattori.And now, she knew more now then she wasn't sure she'd ever wanted to know.- / / / -“I did just say ‘Kaito, Now. Punch me.’,” Sherlock groaned with a close of his eyes.“To be fair,” John added, “It is what we normally hear when you're talking.”Sherlock's face tightened for a moment before worked open his eyes to glare at John.It was then that Kaito striked. Not with a fist first but an open palm to one side followed by a fist when Sherlock started to rise from the blow.“And that is because you didn't trust me to do stage makeup for this part of your plan.”





	The Scandal of Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the mess. Both in the series - with having a rewrite. And in the probability of how bad this prose is.
> 
> I have no beta. I will die like a man. Hopefully the relentance amount of snark will land on bullseyes and service as sufficient payment of apologies for all shortcomings. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed. Writing it lightened up my day, and I hope the jokes land! orz

Conan Edogawa, Ran decided, was an odd boy, but his friend lounging on the couch was even odder. The first time she'd met Kaito she had thought that Shinichi had shown up. But in the times she’d had with him since that first encounter she’d realized that there were a world of differences between the two. Kuroba kept his hair a mess, his face was rounder and his eyes glistened in a blue hue that Shinichi’s never had. 

Shinichi had eyes that were sharp. They caught everything in their sight and for those unfortunate enough to get caught underneath them? They could trust that they’d be flayed alive. They never just glisen, even when talking about Pirot.

The first time she had meant Kaito his face had been pale, even a bit ashen. He had looked like he had seen death itself and had barely made it back to tell the world of the living of his flight. She had been so desperate to see Shinichi - she wouldn’t have given the man standing in front of her another name. And that had left her speechless in the wake of seeing Shinichi back from the doors of the dead.

“Conan Edogawa?” He said in way of introduction.

She had nodded, with a grief that Shinichi in such a state wouldn't have come there for her.

“Can you tell him that Kaito Kuroba is here? Aoko won't leave me alone.”

“Wait. How do you know Conan?”

Conan’s voice had interrupted them, and sounded years more then it should have, “I found his cat like a proper detective would, and he helped me get my soccer ball out of trees a time or two.”

“Oh. It was most a few more time then that,” Kaito said with a weak smile, the only sort that seemed to match his dying face.

“I owe him, Ran-neechan,” Conan moaned grabbing her hands, “And he’s a friend. Can he stay on the couch?”

“Not for long,” Kaito insisted.

Ran stared at him, and she had with one sharp nod doomed herself to constant invasions.

Most not as alarming as seeing Shinichi standing before her as a pale ashen face. Occasionally though, it had looked like Kuroba had been more then proverbially put through a woodchipper. Whenever his pains seemed more harm of the heart then body she would find them slipping out to take the fire escape up to the roof. She never knew what they talked about then, and they never acted like she knew to begin with. 

Typically, he came with a smile and a leap in his step with his homework in a head a song on his lips, “Conan, this homework is going to be the death of me.”

A groan would echo through their apartment, but without compliant Conan would beside him and they would both have their assignments on the counter and a kettle boiling for tea.

Ran typically left them alone during their collaborative homework sessions. It was good for Conan to have an older male in his life, someone to look up to with Shinichi gone.

She had told Kaito that once as he left. She had received a pained look and a causal dismissal, “Nah. Not the type a kid should be looking up to be like.”

She had chuckled at that and closed the door behind him. It didn't matter what he thought. She saw the way Conan brightened with him around. It was like Hattori, but far more often. He needed Kaito in his life. 

She wished it could be her, but she knew. It just wasn't the same.

 

* * *

 

 

Three months after his first visit, during one of their homework sessions, she was slipping away from her own session in her room to grab a cup of tea and perhaps a change of company. Her dad was out for the night, and she thought nothing of it, not until she hear the hushed argument and tense tones in the boys’ voices.

“You know - you could just study ahead. Test and graduate, right?”

“Kaito? Why?”

“You need mobility.”

“No. I need to stay here. I need to stay right where I am.”

“And how much has that helped you - in the last three months? The last six?”

“That’s not the -"

“And how is it not the point? Don't you want the case solved?  _ Conan _ , don't you want to go home?”

Ran caught her own breath and listened as Conan sputtered for an answer.

“This-" Kaito said, “Isn't going to keep her safe.”

Ran’s curiosity fought with her discretion, her slight longing to pretend that all of this was a fever dream that she'd found herself in after falling asleep on her literature homework. Her curiosity won, or perhaps Conan answered too soon.

“She isn't Aoko. She’ll understand.”

A chair slid back, and Ran knew that Aoko - a name she'd heard but never asked after after that first ashen face slipped it - had been a line Conan should never have crossed.

“You know what your problem is?” Kaito asked, “I am smart enough to handle it, to see you and you call you out on it you little-" He cut himself off and Ran held a hand to her mouth so she couldn't make a sound, “Shinichi,” He let out slowly, and a breath hissed out of her, “I’ll be in London if you need me. For anything. Understand - I mean that. Anything, understand?”

“Is this your way of making a love confession?” He asked, clearly far more unamused at the prospect then a child had any right to be. Ran was pointedly ignoring the fact - or already embraced it - that he wasn’t arguing with Kaito about his name.

“Not within a flickers chance of a flame of hell-” And if that wasn’t a turn of phrase Ran had seen coming, “But - that’s what friends are for, aren’t they? I can say that and still be your friend can’t I?”

A chair slide, and the voice that followed was not a child’s, “After throwing me under the bus and questioning me? You of all people know exactly what corner I’ve put myself in to protect  _ her _ \- then you offer to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart - and you think -”

“Shinichi.”

Conan stopped. Shinichi stopped. There was silence.

“Hattori already told you to tell her already, didn’t he?”

There was silence. Ran knew it was a nod. She knew Hattori.

“I’m not Hattori. John fucking shot me in front of Aoko,” His voice was still muted, but the energy was still there, “I’m not going to roll over and drop this. I don’t trust you to be objective. I don’t trust you to be right about this - but I’m also not going to let you use that as an excuse to push me out.”

There was a patter of small steps. The door opened. A pen clattered over the table, “I’m going to be keeping a stiff eye on you, brat,” Kaito grumbled. 

“Yeah, well, have fun being on Mycroft’s string in London town, Kid.”

And then the door closed, and Ran didn’t move. 

A chair slid again, and a half hour later when Ran finally stepped out from around the corner she was met with the sight of a kid who was staring at a completed math worksheet with tears staining his cheeks. He didn’t look up. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. She took a step back, and in silence she fled back to her room. 

Ran didn’t know if it was hope in her chest that wanted it to never come up again or denial. Perhaps it was just her imagination. She’d already thought of Conan being Shinichi. And that had been proven to be a wave of madness.

Either way. Kaito didn’t come back by the office again. And, when Ran asked after him, Conan had told her that he’d started college already. Moved to London.

Which had proven the painful moment real, and that Shinichi had no idea that she knew the truth.

And that he had no intention of telling her.

And, she was fine with that. She would find out all on her own.

 

* * *

 

John had a laptop in his lap, a tea in hand and a comfortable curl in his chair when Sherlock stood over him. Loomed really as he pulled on his coat, “Mycroft wants us at the palace.”

John raised an eyebrow at that.  _ And since when have started listening to him? _

Sherlock smirked, “Well,” He grumbled in clarification, “He did say to come alone and to come immediately. Otherwise all the queens men would be the ones bringing me over.”

“There we go,” John grumbled as he closed up his laptop, “Grabbing the coat then-”

Sherlock dropped it on him, “Do hurry John. We're breaking into Buckingham Palace.”

John closed his eyes and he took a deep breath. Of course. They were invited. Why use the front door then?

Both jumped when there was a knock at their door, “Come in,” Sherlock answered it as he slid on his scarf.

The door slid open and a young Japanese man smiled at them, complete with a little wave, “Mycroft sent me,” Kaito answered, “Mildly threatened to make sure John stayed behind.” Kid's eyes flickered with delight, “So I am definitely here to pick you both up.”

Sherlock roared with laughter as he slide past the boy. John simply walked and glanced up at Kaito, “Back in England then? Looking at the crown jewels then?”

Kaito shrugged, “The Holmes are paying for my college by way of apology for that whole…” He pointed didn't look at John at this point, “Affair last spring.”

John snorted and he followed after Sherlock down the stairs, “You should go to Med School too then, Kaito.”

Kaito stopped, and he thought about it for a moment, “You know,” He answered as he started back up after the two men, “I hadn't really thought about it.”

“You should,” Sherlock answered as he held the door open for those trailing in after him, “Think of the irony.”

Kaito raised an eyebrow, “The irony?” Kaito echoed.

“Oh yes, you should make Mycroft wait before sending you to MI6.”

John snorted at that and they crowded in to the back of the waiting cab, “So,” John brought them into focus, “We were breaking in now weren't we?”

Kaito smirked, “Oh. Please tell me yes.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ran had the blog and the anonymous novels published online pulled up on her laptop. She was reading them as Hattori came in. There was a blond following him, and it took her a moment to recognize him from the Kid heists. She nodded at him but started at Hattori, “I thought-”

“Good,” Hakuba snapped,  “So you're using a VPN and making all of that googling you're doing untraceable?”

She wasn't. And, she hadn't invited him, “Why are you here?”

“His mother dropped him off at my house this morning,” Hattori grumbled. Hakuba looked just as overjoyed over this fact. 

“Mother?”

“You’ve met,” Hakuba glared at Hattori, “I am getting coffee now.”

“You should have gotten it sooner,” Hattori grumbled. Hakuba rolled his eyes, but he left for the counter. Hattori sat down beside Ran, and he looked at her screen. He aged ten years in a moment, “Should we pretend that you know?”

“if that's how you tell me all the bits about the story that I don't know already?” She answered,  “Then yes.”

Hattori leaned over the table, and he held his head in his hands,  “He doesn't know that you know.”

“He didn't tell me if that's what you're trying to tell me about.”

“I was groaning to myself,” He grumbled. He finally looked up, “Because we wouldn't be having this conversation if he had.” He waved at the screen, “Was it the last novel?” He asked.

She frowned. A mad man trying to kill a thief by molding a child to his will, “Should it have been?”

“It was published a week after his trip. I don't know. I haven't read it. I was there. He was there. The timing-”

“Nah,” Hakuba interrupted, “She’s had time to watch Shinichi. He’s as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”

“N-No. It wasn’t that either,” She reluctantly admitted without a second thought. She was going to look like an idiot, “Someone else was with him, and they were arguing. I over heard.”

They stared at her for a moment before Hattori turned his gaze to Hakuba, looking for a confirmation, “Was Shinichi talking to one Kaito Kuroba?” Hakuba asked her.

She nodded. He smirked, and it held no humor, “He’s just moved to England. Didn’t tell Aoko goodbye.”

“She wouldn’t have wanted it,” Hattori added, seemingly in Kaito’s defense.

Hakuba shrugged, seeming to admit agreement.  _ She’s not like Aoko.  _

“Who is Aoko?” Ran asked. She leaned in as she saw a glimmer of light, a glance at her answers.

Hakuba shook his head, “Not our story to tell. Just know that you have the truth, Ran Mouri,” He glanced at Hattori, “And that the truth is the most dangerous spot to be. Drop it now, and no one else will notice you.”

Hattori rose with Hakuba. He swallowed before looking down at Ran, “I - I don’t want you to hate Shinichi. He- He’s trying his best. But you really do have to stop.”

Ran raised an eyebrow at that, “Is this because I can’t play with the big boys-”

“You haven’t read the novel then have you?” Hakuba cut her off.

“Yes- Yes of course I have-”

“Then why are you asking?” Hattori whispered.

“Because it’s not the truth,” She answered with a frown, “It’s a novel by an author that no one can find-”

“Kaito started coming by and seeing Conan after returning from England, didn’t he?” Hakuba asked softly.

She nodded.

“He did he seem to be in peak health then?”

_ He looked like he’d seen death and come back to warn the living. _ She shook her head.

“Then perhaps you should think over the mythos of a writer. The only way to the tell the truth sometimes is by lies.”

“And you should know the easiest lies to tell,” Hattori added, “Are the impossibility of the truth.”

She stared at them, and she watched as Hakuba nodded and left. Hattori reached out and squeezed her shoulder, “Stop,” He whispered, “You don’t want to walk down this road.”

“Then why have you?”

Hattori laughed. It was broken and shattered, “I haven’t actually,” He answered, “But sometimes life just happens - and Shinichi’s my friend. I’ll help him where I can. But, no. It’s his case. I’m not putting my nose into the middle of it.”

“And why do you think life hasn’t just happened to me as well?” She answered back.

He stared at her a moment longer, “Don’t drag Kazuha into this,” He plead, “She has nothing to do with Them or Kudo.”

“She’s my friend and this has everything to do with me. If you’re not going to help me-”

“Tell the girl,” Hattori answered instead, “Haibara. That’s all you’re getting out of me. I was Shinichi’s friend before I was yours. I won’t tell Shinichi, but please, if you’re not going to give this up, then don’t be this careless again.”

“Again?”

“His mom dropped him off. His mother has tried to kill Shinichi nearly a half a dozen times. She only hasn’t because she likes  _ you _ .”

She swallowed.

“And she just made a statement. She wants you to back off.”

“If she likes me so much. Why?”

“Because she doesn’t want to murder her ‘angel’.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why is Kaito in a bed sheet?” Mycroft hissed.

Kaito shrugged as they sat on the sofa in Buckingham Palace.

“He had a wardrobe malfunction,” Sherlock answered with the poise of a middle schooler.

John chuckled like a preschooler, because he was the one that in fact literally looked like a middle schooler, “That’s one way of putting it.”

“How?” Mycroft spat out through gritted teeth.

“Well you see, we were breaking in-” Kaito started.

“You were suppose to escort them -”

“Never said how he was suppose it,” John supplied, "We did ask first, eventually."

“And this is Kaitou Kid,” Sherlock added like that was answer enough.

And it was.

“I’ll have a fresh change of clothes brought down,” Mycroft reluctantly answered, “Kaito if you'll see John -”

Sherlock cleared his throat, “I leave if he leaves-”

“He can not be seen working on this case with you, Sherlock.”

“And why is that?” John asked from his spot at the far end of the sofa.

Mycroft spun a laptop around to face the trio. 

“Well,” Kaito said, “Good thing I'm adult.” 

“You're not working on this-”

“Hm,” Sherlock reached out and started flipping through the website, “What if he is, brother dear?”

“Help me,” Mycroft moaned, “First John and now a phantom thief? I thought you worked alone, brother mine?”

“One is hardly interesting,” Sherlock mumbled, “Means there isn't an audience.”

“And you're slowly forming a crowd then are you?”

“With only those of the most refined in tastes,” John confirmed.

“So what does she have?” Sherlock interrupted, bringing the conversation back onto topic.

“A great fair deal I am afraid, and it would be best if she didn't.”

“Well,” Kaito leaned back, further into the couch, “Then I think I'll use the slight bit of free time I have left before uni starts full swing to lend my -”

Sherlock smirked, “Oh, no. Nothing that boring will work - otherwise Mycroft would have gone straight to you anyways.”

“You have a better plan then?” Kaito asked with a raised brow.

“Oh yes,” Sherlock purred, “Mycroft if you would be a dear to confirm a few things first - What exactly is it that she has? Please tell me the photos are personal.”

“Don’t be so dull, Sherlock.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ran stopped looking. She was in over her head. Her first love was now a seven year old child, and clearly there were people behind that. Enough of them that Shinichi was terrified of them.

That didn’t mean she’d stopped watching him. She had figured him out once before - and it was silver tongues and false faces that had shed her of that belief last time. There would be no chance of that happening again. Not after Hattori’s confirmation of the truth. So, she watched. 

She watched him laugh with the detective boys. And then she’d watch him whisper like a conspirator to Haibara. 

She would watch him stand over bodies, eyes like a hawk searching for all the clues, and then she’d watch him pull out his watch and once her father was sleeping use the bowtie.

She would watch him stare into bookshop windows, and then he’d drag her into the toyshop next to it and - And then he would lie, lie, lie about how cool everything in sight was.

She would watch him vanish into the agency, or perhaps it was up that same fire escape that he use to go up with Kaito, Ran didn't know. She didn’t follow, but then her phone would ring with Shinichi’s caller ID. She always answered despite the nauseous it gave as he continued to lie, lie, lie to her. 

She was watching him after all, and he always looked brighter after their calls, the mindless chatter. And, she couldn't find it in her to tell him no to that. To stop being used by Shinichi to make his day. She couldn't stop pretending to be fooled by his actions. She couldn't stop him from having his way. 

At least now she was choosing - even if it was with a lie of her own.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a quiet alleyway. It was a quiet afternoon for all Sherlock's plan promised that it would turn out to be otherwise. 

Kaito stood beside John as Sherlock faced them, “Now?” Kaito asked.

“I did just say ‘Kaito, Now. Punch me.’,” Sherlock groaned with a close of his eyes.

“To be fair,” John added, “It is what we normally hear when you're talking.”

Sherlock's face tightened for a moment before worked open his eyes to glare at John. 

It was then that Kaito striked. Not with a fist first but an open palm to one side followed by a fist when Sherlock started to rise from the blow.

“And that is because you didn't trust me to do stage makeup.”

Sherlock frowned at that as he adjusted his collar, but he said nothing. There was nothing to say after all. Sherlock had refused the offered props and instead insisted that they wouldn't look real enough. 

A priest with a slapped redden cheek and a busted up lip? Well, Sherlock had not planned for the former, but even so - the painting that it would fill out for Mrs. Adler and all the presumptions it could lead to? He couldn't fault it.

“Time to meet the Dominatrix now then?” John asked with a quick rub of his hands.

Sherlock simply nodded before picking up the child sized doctor, “Do see if you can manage to look traumatized,” He grumbled as John ruffled up his own hair.

“Oh hardy hardy har,” John grumbled, “As if you can't trust me now.”

Sherlock smirked at that, and Kaito trailed behind them as they approached the door. All three ready to act out the scene they'd discussed once they'd hit the buzzer and started their cue.

The scene ran smooth for Sherlock, John stayed with Kaito as they strayed into the apartment looking for the first aid kit, until Irene Adler walked into the sitting room without a single piece of clothing on her. He didn’t know where to look, so he took in everything in an attempt to find a clue at person in front of him.

They stood in silence for a moment that felt like an eternity.

There was nothing-

“It is so hard to stay in character when you’ve been met with a fright, isn’t it?”

He hadn’t even noticed the mask slipping, much less slip. He smirked, and he pulled the handkerchief away from his face, “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean,” He answered simply, “Your website might not give away everything, but it still doesn’t keep little to the imagination, Ms. Adler. If there was anything to fear, then I assure you, it is only fear itself.”

She smirked, “I like you,” She said simply before strolling across the room like a lion, pointedly more attentive to the curtains and their setting then to the man eyeing her, “Mr. Sherlock Holmes - I presume you’re not here for a rendering of my services to you, now are you?”

“And if I was?”

She smirked, and she turned back to him, slightly, just enough to met his eyes, “If you were we would be having a different sort of a discussion.”

He answered that with a smirk of his own, “Yes,” He whispered, “I suppose we would be. Now, I did bring a child in here with me. I would suggest finding some clothes.”

She strolled over and she settled over his lap, and she pulled out the frock, “I suppose I’ll be needing more then this for that, won’t I?” She asked.

Sherlock shrugged. There was really nothing more to be said to that.

“I was surprised when you brought your nephew with considering you apparently have babysitter for the lad.”

“New hire,” Sherlock answered, “I live an surprisingly extraordinary life and need to give the care takers a good trial run to make sure they can keep up on the adventures.”

There was a choking sound, and a rustle at the door. They both turned to look, barely catching the end of Kaito pushing John out of the doorway, “You,” Kaito hissed, “Stay right there.  _ Right there. _ ”

Sherlock knew John would not be staying right there, but any child would have felt the fear of god being instilled to them under a gaze like that. Kaito met Sherlock’s gaze, and then Irene’s, “Don’t think I’m going to be getting paid enough for this job, am I?”

“Probably not,” Sherlock answered with a voice drier then a desert.

Irene pulled herself away from Sherlock, and Kaito froze as she drew closer to him. He kept his eyes latched onto hers. She squinted, “Extraordinary,” She whispered. She turned back to Sherlock, “You called your own like extraordinary,” She held up the frock, “Arrogant bastard aren’t you?”

“You already knew that.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“Oh god,” Kaito whispered before he could stop himself.

Irene turned back to him, “Hm?” She asked. It was clear she was enjoying every moment of this.

“You’re flirting,” Kaito answered. He swallowed, “You’re flirting with Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Kaito, “Are you really that surprised at that?”

“No,” Kaito answered too quickly, “No.”

Irene smirked, “I think I like him after all. Terrible liar. Imagine the things I could do with him.” 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her at that before standing and shedding his coat. He held it out to her, “I’m here for something else other then feeding the new help here to the wolves.”

“He isn’t just a new hire is he?” She asked as she accepted the insistence at some modesty, “I recognize his face from the papers.”

“His face wasn’t in the papers. His name was kept from the public due to the sensitive of the case.”

“Well,” Irene admitted, “I know what the editor likes, and they still know what they don’t publish. I think, you’re slipping -”

The fire alarm went off on time, as planned, and Irene glanced at the mirror.

“So that’s where  _ your _ photographs are,” Sherlock purred. He slide past her to it, and then looked over his shoulder to see her staring at him before looking at Kaito.

“How did you know that?” 

“Well, I knew they were in this room,” Sherlock answered simply, “I have a new hire after all.”

Kaito rolled his eyes, “That wasn’t a question for you.”

“Kate wouldn’t have let you out of sight,” Irene interrupted.

Kaito frowned, “I thought you knew who-”

“You use to be a flamboyant thief-” Irene answered, “And you barely survived pass childhood.”

“Oh,” Kaito choked out, “Is that why you’re surprised? Because I managed to figure you out? At the ripe young age of barely nineteen?” Kaito snorted, “Rather full of yourself, aren’t you?”

Irene straightened at that, and she opened her mouth at that. However it was Sherlock that smirked, and Sherlock who spoke first, “Only explain if you want to, Kaito. Don’t let her goad you into anything.”

Kaito sputtered for a moment before realizing that that was exactly what had started to happen. Then he glared at Irene, who turned to glare at Sherlock. He smirked, “It was rather simple though.”

She raised an eyebrow at him at that, “Oh. Was it now.”

“It was.”

“Will  _ you _ explain?”

“You’re in danger, and you want help. Better help then what you can get from using your - what shall we call it? I doubt it’s only photographs after all,” Her frown deepened at that, “Oh,” Sherlock chided, “Stop being so transparent. You were so interesting when I showed up. Can you go back to being that?”

“I believe you were explaining, Mr. Holmes,” Irene answered him instead.

Sherlock shrugged, rolled his eyes, and turned back to the mirror, “Suppose I was,” He admitted, “You really are the Dominatrix, aren’t you? The one woman - The Woman - if I may be so bold-”

“Please be,” Irene whispered as she took a step closer to him, “I could reward you for such flattery after all. Although I suppose you'd need to be punished first for the insults, wouldn't you? I promise you won't know the difference.”

Sherlock ran his hands up down the frame, both searching the sides before they rested on the matching set of latches. He pressed in instead of answering her. They watched as it rose to figure out the safe.

Irene pulled back and she turned to Kaito, “It won't do you much good to know where my gems - as we'll call them today - are if you can't get past the passcode for it.”

Kaito shrugged, “How many digits is it?”

“Six,” Sherlock answered with a raised eyebrow, “Do you have it already?”

Kaito’s gaze lingered over Irene Adler, “Six?”

“Yes,” Irene answered, “But do explain your logic first if you would.”

Sherlock nodded slightly in reluctant admission, “I’m curious as well, Kaito.”

“You picked the time, Ms. Adler,” Kaito started.

“Irene,” She corrected, “If you’re so sure about your answer anyways.”

“Irene,” Kaito conceded without a drop of ease but instead with a caked on conceit, “You choose now to pull out a strong arm, you’re obsessed with Sherlock-”

“I am not-”

“You know what the editor likes?” He repeated her words with skepticism, “Why would you need to the details on a case as vaguely published as that one had been? You’re interested in Sherlock.”

She didn’t refute the point, which meant she conceded it.

He nodded at that, “And the first thing you do - is - well, I’ve seen women do more then get naked to get attention. I’ve seen women throw more then need at someone’s feet to gain their affection. And, I know that power doesn’t make anyone smarter during their attempts to curry favour.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Irene whispered, “Are you saying that I’m making my choices because I have crush-”

“No,” Kaito interrupted slowly, “No. Not quite. I’m sorry perhaps I’m missing the best way to say it in English-”

“Your accent is absolutely-” She interrupted.

“Stop interrupting him,” Sherlock whispered, “I want to hear what he has to say.”

“You’re in danger - and you’re using the only thing you know how to use because you know what you have on your own - it won't be enough,” Kaito whispered, “And you know Sherlock well enough to know that he’s what you need to cover up your holes - but you also know that what you have just might not be enough.”

She stepped closer to Kaito, “Is that so? And what is it that I have?”

“I would say yourself,” Kaito whispered. He took a step closer to her, and he looked down to met her gaze, “But we both know you aren't on display. You would never be that careless, would you? So, oh no, what you have - is sex.”

“Sex?” She smirked, “That's hardly six numbers. Or did you miss the fact that it's a numerical -”

He leaned in closer to her, and Sherlock couldn't hear his answer to that. Irene's silence was all Sherlock needed however.

“Her measurements,” Sherlock breathes before he turned to the key pad, “Kaito, can you-”

“You really don't know where to look, do you, Sherlock?”

“32 - 24 - 34,” Kaito answered him was she was done talking. She turned to him, her expression was impressed. He raised an eyebrow, “I thought you knew who I was. Measurements? _ Easy. _ ”

The lock clicked open. A simple, single phone. Sherlock took it with ease. He turned back to Kaito, “Done?”

Irene frowned, “You'll kill me if I don't have that.”

Sherlock shrugged,  “Shame then isn't it?” Clearly, however, it wasn't a shame. 

“I-”

“You have your life,” Sherlock hissed, “You made your bed. Sleep in it.”

“I’ll get that back from you,” Irene straightened up, and she closed the distance between herself and Sherlock.

“Oh,” Sherlock breathed, “I hope you certainly try to. I want that coat back after all.”

A cleared throat broke Irene and Sherlock’s gaze apart, and a man stood in the doorway with a gun to John’s head. The man was alone, and the cuts on his face mixed with the shadows under his eyes, “I’m afraid you won’t have the chance to leave with that, Mr. Holmes.”

“American,” Sherlock purred, “How many governments do you have after you, Ms. Adler.”

“More then enough of them, I suppose,” She mumbled with her own weariness.

“Hand over the phone, Mr. Holmes.”

“Just how many men did you think you’d need for this?” Sherlock asked instead.

“Your nephew is amazingly resourceful,” The man admitted, “Which means it would be a real shame to shoot him.”

Kaito twitched at that, and a disgruntled smirk settled on his lips, “Is that bit much?”

The man stared at Kaito, “I am growing tired of -

John smirked at Sherlock, “I’m glad I’m not the only one.” He swung his foot back into the man’s groin, and Kaito pulled the gun out of his waistband with a single stroke. He didn’t take aim. He tossed it into the space that John needed it in to catch it. And John did. Two shots went of in succession to each other before Kaito could enter the space between the newly freed John and the man stumbling backwards. One quick blow to the man’s head had him laid out on the floor, silent and unmoving outside of a ragged draw of air.

John turned to the pair watching, and his smirk was still in place, “Your lady friend is really interesting!” He pipped up as his smirk turned more predatory considering the action that had preceded it. It matched the innocence of his words. It made him look like a child, “She showed me the coolest of things! It was a like the syringes in my doctor’s play set. I don’t like needles though. She’s really good at playing nap time though! And her friends are too!”

Irene started to say something before turning to look at Sherlock. He simply shrugged, “He’s a Holmes, Ms. Adler. What were you expecting - something ordinary?”

“God,” She breathed, “I really could bend out over any surface in this room right now, but brainy really is the new sexy. I would really rather hear you say anything other a wordless moan.”

“Well,” John interrupted, “On that note, Sherlock-”

“My address is on the website, Ms. Adler,” He said a beat too quickly, a bit too hurriedly to the surprise of everyone in the room. He cleared his throat and looked away, “You know. In case you have a case. That needs solved,” He pulled at his buttoned up sleeves, straightened them out and then wave the phone in the air, “You know. Since you won’t have this.”

Irene crossed her arms, “Oh, so since I can’t protect myself - You want to do that for me?” She asked, “You could just leave me with the phone if that’s the case because I won’t come running. I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Mr. Holmes. As you might have noticed-”

“No,” John answered, “He’s offering you a lap dance.”

Irene stopped, and she refused to turn around.

“Because you said brainy is the new sexy,” Kaito added, “He’s flirting with you now. Now, if we could leave before the cops show up - since there were gun shots - that would be great.”

“Or at least preferable,” John corrected before meeting a paling Sherlock’s face, “It might be Dominic.”

Sherlock frowned at that, “You’re right, John. I really don’t want to be here when they show up, do I?”

“Naked lady wearing your coat with your nephew in the room?” John shrugged, “Seems par for the course at this point.”

“It’s really not, is it?” Kaito asked as John grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, walking over the wall of a man they put on the floor.

“He is exerageting,” Sherlock grumbled. He glanced back at Irene as he left, “A lot. The boy doesn’t know-”

“Get a room later with her later, Sherlock!” John interrupted, “We’re going home now. Pleasure meeting you, Ms. Adler. Looking forward to charging you for whatever case it is that you find as your excuse-”

“Shut up, John!” Sherlock hissed before closing the door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate my life so I'm still primarily on [Tumblr](http://hisfoolishdaughter.tumblr.com) if you're looking for signs of my being alive.
> 
> It really shouldn't be another six months until the next update. Like I'm just about to tab back over to that doc, and hopefully finish. It should be one or two more parts max. I don't think it will be nearly as long as The London Game turned out to be. ('cause that was a monster of a piece comparatively and I'm really gonna just stick to trying to keep it simple after whatever that first draft of this was.)
> 
> And I do have the rest of my notes out of the detailed outline that existed for SoS. Really I should have thought of what this installment shortened down into before I named it. It was jinxed. But even so, everything else is double backed up now so- this series is also really not gonna die unless I die. And in the case of the latter happening then - well, I'm sorry I failed to become a cyber enabled ghost. orz


End file.
